


caramel macchiato for dr. stark, sir

by transpeterparker (partlycharlie)



Series: pride month 2k19 [11]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coffee, Fluff, Gen, Interns & Internships, LMAO, PETERS TRANS BY THE WAY, Peter is not spiderman, Starbucks, Stark Industries, Sunglasses, Trans Peter Parker, i have no fucking clue how to tag this, i love these guys so much UGH, just to clear that up, kamala miles gwen and steve are mentioned, listen i have no idea guys it's cute though i promise, pepper is over the phone, yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-13 05:56:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19245187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/partlycharlie/pseuds/transpeterparker
Summary: You know, you’d think that after meeting Captain Fucking America, Peter would really be more prepared for Avengers just kind of… showing up, at his Starbucks.Guess not.(Although, to be fair, it is TONY FUCKING STARK.)





	caramel macchiato for dr. stark, sir

**Author's Note:**

> 2 people requested more so here u go!!!! i love you guys!!!!!! you ARE my lifeblood!!!!!!
> 
> no warnings this is plotless and cute as FUCK thank u very much

You know, you’d think that after meeting Captain Fucking America, Peter would really be more prepared for Avengers just kind of… showing up, at his Starbucks. 

Guess not. 

(Although, to be fair, it is TONY FUCKING STARK.) 

\--- 

**pete:** guess who just walked into the FU CKING STORE????????????? 

**mj:** oh boy 

\--- 

TONY STARK clears his throat and Peter stuffs his phone into his pocket, head jerking up to stare TONY STARK in the eyes. (Well. Sort of. He has sunglasses on.) 

“Hello, Mr. Stark! Um. How may I help you?” Peter asks, smile wide and utterly professional as always, of course. 

(His life is so goddamn fucking weird. What the hell.) 

His phone buzzes in his pocket, but Peter Benjamin Parker is a professional so he doesn’t pull it out, although his hand does twitch a little bit. It’s fine. He can suppress the urge. 

“You’re Peter Parker, right?” 

TONY STARK takes his sunglasses off and pushes them into his hair, eyes flickering. 

Peter’s eyes widen. “Um. Yes? How - um. How do you know my name.” 

_Breathe, Peter, Jesus Christ. B r e a t h e._

He breathes. 

“Oh, well. Steve-o talks about you a whole bunch, ‘cause he’s a frequent flyer of the goddamn place, so I figured I might as well do a background check on you, just to make sure you’re not a secret HYDRA agent or whatever -” 

Peter wrinkles his nose. Gross. 

“- and congrats! You’re officially just a broke college student, one of many.” 

You know - Peter feels this a lot, but celebrities come across _so_ different when they’re standing in front of you instead of on a screen. Tony Stark, for example? Definitely has ADHD. He’s fidgeting with some sort of screwdriver, the other hand has been brushing back his hair compulsively every couple of seconds, and he hasn’t made eye contact once. 

Well. Maybe he’s stereotyping. It’s hard to tell, sometimes. 

Anyway. Tony Stark in front of him is a different person from TONY STARK, legendary green energy MASTERMIND, resident fucking GENIUS. This guy’s just tired, mostly. 

“Uh. Thanks?” 

Mr. Stark (Dr. Stark? Oh, God, doesn’t he have like 6 PhDs? Oh Jesus) flaps a hand in the air. “Yeah. Anyway. So I saw that you applied for the September Foundation - and you got in, obviously, because you’re a genius and your work with genetic mutations is quite frankly incredible -” Peter’s jaw drops. “- and then you denied it. How ‘bout that, huh?” 

Oh. 

Right. 

He had almost forgotten about that. 

Peter pulls the sleeves of his shirt down so that they cover his hands, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Oh, right. Yeah. So - funny story, actually, but really it’s not funny at all, basically what happened is that the specific offer I got - which was to work in the intern labs at SI, which _oh man_ I would’ve loved to do - only said unpaid internship? And, uh, like you said, I’m a broke college student, so. Can’t afford that.” He shrugs. “It is what it is.” 

He looks up again (when had he looked down?) and Dr. Stark looks absolutely _gobsmacked_ . “I - what? How? What - how is that - give me a second.” He pulls out his phone, types something, and lifts it to his ear. “Hey - Pep? Does the September Foundation offer unpaid internships? … okay, okay. Why? … no, I just… did I say that? What the fuck was I thinking? … Hah, yeah… no, listen, get rid of that clause, okay? … Paid internships, please… Yeah, do regular benefits, include need-based tuition coverage, maybe? … Yeah, yeah, that sounds good. Do me a favor? … another one, yeah, sorry, hah. Can you send me a copy of the revised contract? … I have the Parker kid, the one who sent the email.” 

Oh, God, Peter had almost forgotten about that _fucking_ email. That was the worst. Oh, God, that was so fucking embarrassing - listen. Peter had been - what, eighteen? Basically a baby, for all he cares. He was a dumbass, was the point. And when eighteen-year-old Peter had realized he couldn’t work for SI, he - well, first he cried for like an hour, but then he sent a blubbering email to the CEO apologizing profusely for his denial, I’m so sorry, I’m such a horrible person, blah blah blah. 

One of the lower employees had replied. 

(Wait. 

The CEO is Pepper Potts. Dr. Stark just called someone called _Pep._ No way. NO WAY.) 

Dr. Stark hangs up the phone and looks back up at Peter, who’s jaw is dropped. 

“What?” 

“ _Was that PEPPER POTTS?”_ Peter hisses, eyes wide. 

Dr. Stark snorts. “Oh, I see. So when it’s me, you’re totally cool and calm and collected and whatever, but when _Pepper Potts_ calls you go apeshit?” 

“Dr. Stark, I appreciate your faith in my ability to remain calm in the face of celebrities, but I am almost definitely on the verge of a hysterical laughter sort of breakdown. Um.” 

Dr. Stark’s mouth does this weird sort of twisty thing, but he nods. “Yeah, I get that.” 

Somebody pokes Dr. Stark from behind - when did that line form? Where in the hell is Kamala, isn’t she supposed to be on shift right now? - and he startles, whipping around to face them. 

“You gonna order?” they ask, looming over him, and Dr. Stark (DOCTOR STARK. PETER IS STILL NOT OVER THIS.) sighs. 

“Pete, lemme get a caramel macchiato with two shots of espresso?” 

“Yeah. That’ll be - four dollars and thirty cents, please.” 

Dr. Stark dips in his card, pulls it back out, and moves to the side. 

“Hello,” Peter says to the next customer. He’s smiling pleasantly - oh, Peter is _so fucking pleasant._ “Sorry for the wait. How can I help you?” 

\--- 

**ned:** Peter, Captain America walking into the store isn’t a big deal anymore. You can’t keep crying about it to us. 

**mj:** 10 bucks says it was black widow 

**ned:** Ha! I’m not taking that bet. 

**ned:** Peter????????? 

**mj:** what a bitch leaving us hung like this 

**ned:** I don’t think you meant that the way it came out. 

**mj:** ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 

**pete:** TONY FUCKING STARK 

**ned:** HBIFASJNLSKJBAWN  
**ned:** SHUT UP NO WAY 

**pete:** YES WAY IM GONNA SHIT MYSELF 

\--- 

“So.” 

The line’s gone, the danishes are restocked, and Peter doesn’t have any more reasons to avoid Dr. Stark. “So,” he says instead, avoiding looking at him. 

“What do you say?” 

“To what?” 

Maybe Peter’s playing dumb. So what? He’ll survive. 

“Uh - did you forget what we were talking about? I was offering you a paid internship for Stark Industries and ample lab space to work on experiments, all while covering your insurance plus any medical expenses and your tuition?” 

Peter glances up sharply, but Dr. Stark’s expression hasn’t changed. 

_Medical expenses,_ he said. Huh. 

He glances down at his chest, and back up again. Dr. Stark tracks his movement but doesn’t say anything. 

“I didn’t realize you were offering,” Peter says, raising an eyebrow. “I just heard your conversation with - oh man oh _man_ you were talking to the CEO of Stark Industries. Um. Yeah.” 

Dr. Stark rolls his eyes. “It’s an offer, kid. You gonna take it?” 

Peter scans the Starbucks. Horse is still in the corner, just like always (is he pissing? Never mind), someone vaguely familiar is sitting at a table, face buried in a computer, there’s a line of five or so people for the bathroom… 

Yeah, he’s not going to miss this place. He’ll miss Kamala and Miles and Gwen, maybe, but. They have phones. They’re in the digital age. They’ll be fine. 

“Yeah,” Peter says. “Yeah, sure.” 

\--- 

**pete:** GUESS WHOS WORKING FOR STARK INDUSTRIES  
**pete:** THIS BITCH 

**Author's Note:**

> <3 thanks yall love u


End file.
